


Jazz & Jealousy

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Creampie, Dom Spencer, Dom Spencer Reid, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Hair-pulling, Jealousy, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: On a visit from New Orleans, Ethan takes a liking to Spencer’s crush. Spencer is not thrilled by this.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 316





	Jazz & Jealousy

It wasn’t often that I got to have nice nights out. The kind of nights where you lose yourself to the wine and good company of friends, each of you dressed to the nines and indulging in the pleasures of life under the pale full moon.

Don’t get me wrong, my job grants me the privilege of traveling to some of the most beautiful places in the country. We’ve been to nearly every major tourist destination, and sometimes it felt like we’d already discovered every hidden local gem. The only catch was that we were there for work, and always for work.

As soon as it was over, we’d be too exhausted to do anything except drag our feet back into the jet for a long sleepless flight. But that wasn’t even the worst part about the job. Because not only did we not get to enjoy those places, we also missed out on the beauty in our own backyard.

So when Spencer announced to the team that his friend from New Orleans would be making a visit for a Jazz Festival happening in D.C., I jumped at the opportunity. Somewhat surprisingly, so did the rest of the team. Usually only a few of us wanted to join Spencer on his outings. Then again, his outings usually included a lot more foreign cinema or science we’d never understand.

But this time it was just good food and even better musical entertainment. A few of us even splurged on hotel rooms by the venue so that we wouldn’t have to worry about metro rides or taxis. Everything about the night was meant to be carefree, joyous, and relaxing.

Unfortunately, things didn’t exactly work out that way. 

It’d started about a month ago. Spencer and I had been paired together during one of those rare cases– the kind that have a happy enough ending that when half the team stumbles into a bar, it’s because we’re celebrating rather than attempting to drown our sorrows. Even more rarely, it had actually included Spencer drinking as well, albeit not much.

Enough, however, that when I asked him to come back to our room with me, he’d actually said yes. At first, I wasn’t sure he understood what I had been implying, but we’d barely made it into the room when he backed me against the wall, his hands framing my jaw as our lips crashed together sloppily.

Within seconds, we had started the process of clumsily removing the other’s clothing, trying to ride on the inertia in the moment. Because we’d known that if we stopped, even for a second, it would be over. We’d be trapped in the same no man’s land that we’d been in for years, always wondering what would be if we could just put our prides and jobs aside for a second.

But before things had gotten too far, the sounds of our heavy breathing and hushed wanting were interrupted by a very loud knock on the door. It had been Emily, locked out of her room after realizing that we’d taken the wrong key cards.

Being a talented profiler (and just generally not an idiot), she’d _definitely_ figured out what she had interrupted. Spencer’s awkward, disheveled appearance paired with the flush on both of our faces weren’t just from arousal, but horrified embarrassment.

Emily never said anything, trying to get out of our hair as quickly as possible. It didn’t matter, though. Once the door shut, Spencer and I had just stared at each other and saw all of the potential futures we could be making a reality if we continued what we had been doing.

There was the future where we quickly realized our hooking up had been a mistake, reverting back to friends with a dirty little secret that would always be in the back of our minds. There was the one where things would go wonderfully for a while, just to blow up in our faces and create a bitter division down the middle of our team. Then there was the other possible ending — the one where he and I would fall madly in love, get married, and grow old together.

Silently, we’d weighed the odds. Eventually, Spencer had broken the tension, wordlessly turning his back to me and continuing his normal nightly routine. And just like that, I’d realized that we hadn’t needed to actually sleep together to find ourselves in the first imagined future.

Now when I looked at him, it was all I could see. All I could feel was the way his hands felt on my hips, and the way his whiskey flavored breath danced over my lips. I still dreamt about what it might have been like if he hadn’t been such a coward and I hadn’t let him turn around.

Why couldn’t we just admit that we liked each other? Was this really a _better_ solution? It hadn’t felt that way lately. But every time I found myself alone with him, he’d find a way out. Hell, I was surprised he even invited me tonight.

But now that I was here, in a dress that cost half my rent, with a glass of wine from a bottle that was probably just as fucking expensive, I was absolutely _terrified_.

Despite immediately ogling me when I walked through the door, Spencer could barely maintain a conversation for a few seconds before trying to escape. It was like he honestly expected me to try and jump him in such a dignified public setting.

So I just tried to ignore him, bouncing between the different smaller tables filled with familiar faces. Eventually, though, I’d run out of teammates. Luckily, any disappointment faded fast at the sight of the person responsible for this night out in the first place.

Spencer had left Ethan’s side just long enough that I was able to slide out of my seat at the table with Emily and JJ and approach him without looking too desperately excited. He didn’t even noticed me until I set my glass down at his table, taking the seat that had been occupied by Spencer a few moments earlier.

“Hey, it was Ethan, right?” I asked with a smile, noticing the way his eyes quickly scanned over each inch of visible skin. I wondered which one of them was more obvious in their appreciation of the female figure.

“Yeah, you must be (y/n),” he drawled, “Reid told me about you.”

“Oh? Good things, I hope.” I laughed, crossing my legs to the side just to watch his eyes fall down to them. They did. When they came back up, he must have seen the smirk on my lips behind my glass.

“He might have implied you have a bit of a mouth on you.”

Once more, I chuckled, tapping softly on the stem of my glass while I shrugged, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Never a bad thing.”

Within these few moments, I’d learned a few interesting things about Ethan. The most interesting of those was that he was, without a doubt, a _very_ charming man.

“And you’re a jazz musician, huh?” I cheekily replied, raising my glass for another sip to hopefully hide the blush forming on my face, “Bet you’ve got quite a mouth, too.”

“He failed to mention how beautiful you are, though.”

It was bizarre, to think that this was the company Spencer used to keep. And here I’d always assumed he was so awkward on these matters because he hadn’t had any positive influences.

Although I knew it wasn’t exactly appropriate for me to lean into the overt flattery from my coworker’s best friend, I couldn’t help myself. He’d read me quickly and clearly learned that I appreciate a straightforward man.

“Ooh, I like you. Wanna reconsider joining the bureau? I would appreciate the eye candy.” I teased, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Spencer had spotted the two of us together.

I wasn’t entirely certain, but it seemed like his steps were a bit quicker when he saw Ethan reach his hand across the table, gently laying it over the back of mine as he spoke.

“You flatter me, sweetheart.”

His hand was warm, his fingers lightly calloused from years of music. Normally, I’d like to think it would take more than that to win my affections. But at that moment my stupid, conflicted, touch starved self was already melting.

“Sweetheart?” I asked with a smitten look in my eyes just as Spencer arrived at the table. I turned to him, a much more bitter smile as I joked, “Now I see why Spencer didn’t want me to meet you.”

Ethan’s hand retreated, probably after noting the tension that had arrived with Spencer’s newfound presence. I didn’t take my eyes off the boy genius who stepped close enough that our legs pressed against each other.

“Did I take your seat, Spencer?”

“Looks like it.” He vaguely responded, his jaw clenching as he shut it. But I didn’t make any attempt to leave, instead reverting my attention to Ethan as he offered a welcome distraction.

“It’s not a problem. He can take my seat.”

_Fuck! Don’t leave me with him!_

“Well, I would hate for you to be put out by me.” We’d simultaneously started to stand up, with Spencer refusing to take even the smallest step back to accommodate my body in front of him, staring down at me with the utmost suspicion.

Ethan took the other way around the table, laying the hand I’d just been admiring on my shoulder. “Not a problem at all, sweetheart. I was actually already considering taking my turn at the piano.”

Although it did nothing for my current predicament, with Spencer remaining rooted in place even as I glanced over my shoulder to his friend, I appreciated the opportunity to hear him play.

“Do you take requests?”

“Normally I would, but…” He smiled, his eyes flickering up to Spencer for just a second before they fixated on me again, “I’ve already got one I picked just for you.”

There was a lot said in that little look and playful statement, only half of which was directed at me. Spencer’s irritated shifting in front of me as he watched Ethan’s exit told me even more.

“Hey Spencer.” I said, immediately dropping the flirty tone I’d been using seconds earlier with Ethan. “Since you made him move, you might as well sit.”

He was silent as he took the seat, shifting it so he was slightly closer to me. I’m sure he would’ve claimed it was to have a better view of the piano, but it really just gave him a better view of me.

Ethan had approached the man currently playing, with whom he was clearly familiar. It didn’t take long before he had replaced him on the seat, looking up to me before he began to play. I recognized the song, although I wasn’t sure where from. I just figured that all jazz was like that; it all felt vaguely familiar somehow.

_“My heart is sad and lonely._

_For you I sigh, for you dear only_.”

His voice was about as beautiful as I expected, the low, slightly rough baritone causing goosebumps to wash over my skin. Torn between wanting to stare at him and closing my eyes to take in the music, I decided to turn my attention to the glass on the table instead.

My attention was quickly diverted again, with Spencer’s hand tapping impatiently on the table beside me. Everything about his demeanor starkly contrasted the otherwise relaxed atmosphere.

“ _Why haven’t you seen it?_

 _I’m all for you, body and soul._ ”

I sighed, reaching over to weigh his hand down with my own. Although I understood some people didn’t appreciate when people told them to stop expressing anxiety in that manner, Spencer and I had been doing this for years. He usually didn’t recognize he was even doing it, and for whatever reason, my touch would calm him down enough for the movement to stop on its own.

But not today. For just a couple seconds, his movements calmed considerably and almost ceased… just to start up again. I had a sneaking suspicion that he continued on purpose.

“ _I spend my days in longing,_

 _And wondering why it’s me you’re wronging._ ”

I turned my body to him, trying to pay enough attention to the music Ethan had apparently chosen for me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

It was a pointless exercise in empathy, and I immediately regretted wasting my energy with it. It was obvious that he had decided on remaining indignant. So I went to remove my hand, only to be surprised by the way the tapping immediately halted. Unable to tell whether it was an attempt to keep my hand there, I scrutinized his face to hopefully figure it out.

“ _I tell you, I mean it,_

 _I’m all for you, body and soul._ ”

It backfired; my mind immediately noting the way the dim light cast a romantic scene. His hair was shorter than when I’d first met him, and for some godforsaken reason the only thing I could think about was the way it felt to run my fingers through it.

“ _I can’t believe it, it’s hard to conceive it,_

 _That you’d turn away romance_.”

He was watching me just as carefully now, his breath just a little bit harder. If there was something he wanted to say, he wasn’t making it easy to read.

“Is there something you want to say?” I asked, tired of trying to read through an impenetrable emotional wall.

He waited a moment longer before he bit down on his lip, shaking his head no.

“ _Are you pretending? It looks like the ending_

 _Unless I could have one more chance to prove, dear_.”

I don’t know why, but Ethan’s words came through at that moment, the lyrics like a knife twisting in my gut. I was wasting my time. Spencer had made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in pursuing or addressing what had happened.

“ _My life a wreck you’re making,_

 _You know I’m yours for just the taking._ ”

If I didn’t want to be alone that night, I’d need to shift my focus to someone else. Lifting my hand off of Spencer’s, I immediately missed the warmth. Clearing my throat, I picked up my glass and turned my attention back to the man not so much serenading me as he was everyone else at this point.

“Why didn’t you tell me how talented Ethan is?”

The tapping began again, his voice just as curt and dismissive as before. “Never came up, I guess.”

“You conveniently forgot to mention that your cute friend could serenade me?” I deadpanned, refusing to pay him even a hint of a glance. If he wanted to be confrontational, I could do it right back. I would be much better at it, too.

“Didn’t forget, just didn’t care,” he mumbled before more clearly enunciating, “Not high on the list of traits I pay attention to in my friends.”

Slightly louder now, I snapped back, “Clearly.” It was the end of the conversation as far as I was concerned. Spencer, however, had other plans.

“I can play the piano, too. Should I tell you that?”

“That depends, Spencer.” I asked, leaning back in the chair and giving into the extreme urge to look at him. “Are you going to serenade me?”

“Why would I do that?”

The way he said it was what really got to me, rather than the words themselves. It was like the idea itself was repulsive; like it was inconceivable why he would ever even consider such a thing. For a while now, he’d shown that he didn’t think pursuing me was worth it. So why did he look so incredibly pissed off at the thought of me being with someone else?

“What is with you?” I finally asked, “Why are you being a dick?”

“I’m not being a dick. I just don’t see why it matters!” His voice took on that high pitched squeak, his inflection varying wildly as he articulated way too much with his hands, “I don’t think it’s necessarily impressive to be able to play music.”

“What is impressive, then?” The pout he responded with was all the evidence necessary to show he didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t make his point exceedingly obvious. “You know, I’m just trying to have fun, Spencer. I’m allowed to do that.”

It took him a minute of nervous fidgeting and pouting before he blurted out his feelings.

“He doesn’t even seem like your type! It’s like you’re just doing this all to…” Just as quickly, he’d trailed off, biting his tongue in a figurative and literal sense.

“To what?” I demanded, tightening my grip on the stem of my glass. I couldn’t stop myself from growing irritated, recognizing the real reason he was upset at the prospect of me being with someone else but knowing that wasn’t what he was going to say. “Spit it out.”

When he finally answered, he practically shouted it, drawing the attention of the people around us. “To fuck with me!”

I stared at him blankly, shocked that he would actually go through with this frankly ridiculous viewpoint. Once everyone’s attention had shifted away from us again, I leaned forward across the table. Speaking much quieter now, I basically whispered, “Why would it fuck with you that I’m interested in your friend? Last I checked­–“ I lifted my hand, gesturing quickly between the two of us, “ ** _we_** aren’t a couple.”

When Spencer responded, he was whispering too, but just barely. “Because I told you that he and I have always competed over everything!”

“So _what_? Why would that matter?”

“Because you know I don’t have a chance with you, and you just want to… to see me lose.”

“ _Lose_?” I scoffed, biting harshly on my tongue while I tried to find a better way to respond than screaming at him in front of a bunch of strangers in a high-class establishment. This was probably exactly why we never got to do anything nice. 

“I’m not trying to play a _game_ with you. I’m not a fucking prize.” The words were calmer than I’d originally envisioned them, and I hated to admit they fully displayed the hurt I felt. He thought I wanted him to lose? Why would he think that? If anything, I’d been rooting for him.

Picking up my clutch, I stopped next to him, looking into those warm hazel eyes in the hopes he might hear all the words still left unsaid. Knowing that it was unlikely, I gave him a few. “If you don’t have a chance with me, it’s because _you_ fucked up, Spencer. Not because I sabotaged you.”

His eyes were suddenly too expressive for me to bear, and I turned to look at Ethan chatting with another musician now that he’d finished his song. I hated to think that he’d just played something for me, only for me to spend the whole time fighting with Spencer.

“Now, I’m going to go hang out with the dude who is actually nice to me.” I said with a sigh, “Have fun being alone.”

Leaving him like that was hard, but necessary. I couldn’t sit and wait for him to get the hint, because deep down he already knew what he needed to do. Hell, he’d already weighed the pros and cons and made his decision. It just wasn’t the decision I wanted.

I wasn’t worth the risk. I needed to move on. And unfortunately for him, his friend was a wonderful rebound. A jazz musician from New Orleans that I’ll probably never see again? I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity like that because Spencer felt a little possessive.

For the most part, he didn’t bother me and Ethan for the rest of the event. Even when he was at the table with us, he remained quiet. It was a strange and foreign sight, and I had to keep forcing myself to let the thought go.

The group of us who’d purchased hotel rooms nearby decided to walk back together, although Ethan and I seemed to find our way to the back of the pack. My arm hooked around his was more for my safety than anything else, having already drunk too much to walk in heels like this on a city sidewalk.

So when we got to the hotel and took a left, heading to the restaurant off the lobby, we didn’t expect anyone to notice. But of course, someone did.

“Where are you two going?” Spencer asked, turning around and breaking from the rest of the group with us.

After a brief string of internal curses, I forced a smile as I spoke. “Oh, we wanted to keep the night going, so we’re going to the hotel bar.”

“I’ll come.” 

It wasn’t a question, or a request for an invitation. He’d already walked back to us, passing by on his way to the door.

“It’s fine,” Ethan said with a playful smile, clearly aware of what was happening, “you can go to bed if you’re tired, Reid.”

“You’re my guest here. It wouldn’t be right to leave you.”

My eyes remained fixed on Spencer, even as Ethan spoke. Unsurprisingly, his gaze was also stuck on me. If he didn’t want to turn this into a competition, he was doing a terrible job and keeping a low profile.

“I can keep him company,” I slurred, failing to mediate the situation at all. I wasn’t a perfect person, either. If the boys wanted to play, I wasn’t going to sit idly by and let it happen to me. 

“That’s not necessary.” Spencer replied curtly, walking through the entrance and towards the bar.

“Fine. More the merrier, right?” I mumbled, glancing over to Ethan with a shrug and waving my hand. He chuckled, and I’d like to think it was because he could read the rage hidden under my somewhat bored tone. But he didn’t explain himself either way, just escorting me over to the bar.

Unsurprisingly, the men opted to have me sit between them. I could feel the childish tension within seconds of sitting down. Like a mature adult, I decided to drown the awkwardness in a couple more drinks. The men followed, taking it as yet another competition I suppose.

The winner was very clearly neither of them. While Ethan had the tolerance of, well, a jazz musician from New Orleans, he’d clearly taken it upon himself to have two or three drinks to each of Spencer’s one. To sum it up, it was a shit show.

I wasn’t even sure why the silence had settled over us, but it was almost welcome. Still, I knew it couldn’t last, and I didn’t want to let them pick the topic when they inevitably broke it. Picking up my drink, I sipped it before turning to the man on my left. 

“So, Ethan, must have been interesting growing up best friends with a prodigy. I’m impressed you could put up with him for so long.”

He smiled, and I could hear the way Spencer lightly scoffed at what the statement implied. Ethan didn’t let it get to him, responding with an unexpected level of grace. “Yeah, we had fun with our little contests. Believe it or not, I won my fair share of them.”

“That’s an overstatement.”

The cheeky statement to my right was said with such confidence, I barely registered it as having come from Spencer. But it had; he was staring straight ahead at the bar, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Oh it is, is it?” Ethan laughed, “I have a few awards of my own that beg to differ.”

“Yeah, like what? Most _improved_?”

I nearly choked on my drink at the quick escalation coming seemingly out of nowhere. I shook my head, wondering if this was also a signal that it should be my last drink. I didn’t really want it to be; especially if I had to mediate this shit any longer.

“Mmm. I’m loving the pissing contest, boys,” I said once I had cleared my throat, “but why dwell on the past? We have a whole night ahead of us.”

Needless to say, they did _not_ take my suggestion to let this go.

It was Ethan who started it this time, his hand pointing an accusing finger at Spencer. “Reid’s pretty good at grudges, too, you know. He didn’t talk to me for a whole month because Maggie Jenkins went with me to the school dance.”

“That’s completely false!” Spencer squeaked back. “I didn’t even go to the dance! I didn’t talk to you because you ditched me to hang out with a girl!”

“Oh, you would have done the same thing!”

A less secure woman might have been offended that I apparently wasn’t the first girl they’d fought over, but in all honesty, it was actually just irritating. I rolled my eyes, nursing my cocktail as I made desperate eye contact with the female bartender. It was clear we were both coming to the same, simple conclusion: _Oh my god, men are so stupid._

Putting my hands up in front of each of their faces, I raised my voice just enough to be heard over theirs. “Well _this_ girl is about to ditch _both_ of you if you don’t stop.”

“You’re right, sweetheart.” Ethan’s hand took mine, giving the back of it a soft kiss before lowering it down to the counter. “I’m sorry.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks at the sensation of his scruff against my hand, and I barely noticed that my other hand had fallen. I cleared my throat again, letting him continue to hold my hand on the bar for however long he’d liked. It was a little pathetic, but it was really the first time a man had touched me since…

“ _Sweetheart_.” Spencer sneered to my right, his upper lip twitching as he tried (and failed) to contain his temper. When I turned more towards him, I noticed the way he had his arms crossed on the bar in one of his traditional sulking postures. “Be honest,” he spat as he sat up, “Do you even remember her name?”

Ethan’s hand tightened on mine, and I jumped at the sensation. I had to admit, this side of Spencer was new to me. Don’t get me wrong, I’d seen him lose it on unsubs before, and occasionally he’d be snarky with the team, but this… This was hostile.

“Easy, boy, I thought you two were friends.” I instructed, taking my hand back to place it in my lap. The way his eyes trailed after it confirmed my suspicion on why he’d snapped in the first place. He was like a toddler who had decided he didn’t want to play with a toy, only to hit another kid for picking it up. I tried not to be simultaneously enraged and turned on by the prospect of him possessing me like that.

My libido was not assisted by the way the next thing said to me was whispered into my ear by Ethan’s low drawl, “You know, I’ve learned that if you just let him talk, he’ll eventually exhaust himself.”

“Really?” I whispered back, despite my face being directed entirely toward Spencer. “How long does that normally take?”

He blew out an exasperated breath, “It depends.”

Once again, Spencer had quickly tired of me and Ethan doing anything that didn’t include him. I could tell by the way he swirled the contents of his cup, his jaw clenching at the way I giggled in response to his friend.

“It’s funny you say that, Ethan. I used to say the same thing about you with women.” He finally spoke, the words clearly enunciated despite the alcohol. His voice was lower than I was used to, a daring look in his eyes as he continued, “Leave them with you for a couple hours and then _suddenly_ … you’re not interested in them anymore.”

“Well, every man can change for the right woman.” He nonchalantly responded, taking another swig of his drink. I couldn’t keep my eyes on him, though, feeling the way Spencer’s gaze was fixed on me again. I’m not sure how I could describe the look on my face, although I think it was some odd combination of frustrated and smitten.

I hated how he could do this to me.

“I haven’t found that to be the case,” he muttered back in a way that made it sound like the words were intended for me instead of Ethan. I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to remind myself that Spencer had already rejected me once. I didn’t need to have another night alone in a hotel room to know how he feels.

But the way he was watching me made me pause, noting the sadness and longing that was only fitting for a jazz festival.

“Maybe you haven’t met the right woman yet either, Reid.” Ethan challenged, no doubt noticing the way we’d been staring at each other. Regrettably, he succeeded in tearing Spencer’s attention away, settling them back into their little contest.

“I’d recognize her before you did.”

 _Doubtful_.

“Alright. That’s enough. I am here to have fun, not listen to you two bicker. What time is it, anyway?” I turned my back to the bar, grabbing my phone out of my jacket. It wasn’t that I was _entirely_ planning on ditching them, but I needed a minute to recuperate. At the very least, I needed to smack myself in the face and tell myself not to end this night crying over Spencer _again_.

Without turning on the phone, I pretended to struggle for a few seconds before sighing. “Shit, it’s dead and I left my portable charger in my room.” It wasn’t the worst excuse I’d ever come up with, although I suspected Spencer would figure it out if he weren’t too drunk yet.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to or not.

“I’m gonna go get it. Can you watch my drink?” I gestured to both of the men as I stood up, smoothing my dress and searching for my keycard.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. We’ll miss you.”

Shaking my head, I barely stopped to respond with a laugh and a smile, “Stop! I’ll be right back.”

I swear, it was the fastest I’d ever bolted from two men who were expressing a clear desire over me. The further away I got, the more muddled my thoughts became. Massaging my temples in the elevator, I leaned back against the wall and continued to run the last night I’d spent with Spencer on repeat in my mind.

It’d already been a month, but I still couldn’t rid myself of the memory of his lips on mine. There wasn’t a night that had passed where I didn’t think about what it would have been like if he’d climbed into my bed, instead, holding me until the morning.

Whatever. Even if I’d slept with him, there was no guarantee he would have still been interested in me after. That was especially true now; if I was going to have a one night stand, it might as well be with the stranger. Makes work less awkward than the alternative.

I had only been in the room for a few minutes when I heard an unfamiliar knock on my door. It was a steady, confident knock that told me the person on the other side was sure they were meant to be there. It didn’t sound like Spencer’s knock. I’d heard that one many times before.

So when I opened the door, I was fully expecting to see Ethan.

“Hey—“ I’d started with a smile, only to stop cold in my tracks when I was met with Spencer. “Oh.” I quickly returned to my previous forlorn disposition, already playing out the rest of the night through my head. “What do you want?”

“You didn’t forget anything up here, and your phone is over halfway charged. You never let it get below 40%.”

I chuckled, realizing that Spencer was either the true genius like he’d always claimed, or he wasn’t as drunk as I thought he was. Regardless, I turned my back to him, retreating further into my room as I tossed my jacket on the chair by the desk. “Keeping tabs on my things?”

“Mostly just wondering why you’d say that when you know I’d figure out it was a lie.” His voice followed me; I didn’t need to turn around to know that he was following close behind me. The tension in the room was palpable enough that I swore I was choking on it.

“Not everything means something, Spencer.” I forced out, recognizing that I was quickly cornering myself by the bed. Quickly spinning around, I nearly ran into him as he towered over me.

“Yeah, but this did.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, refusing to shrink under his gaze.

“You wanted me to follow you up here, and you wanted me to come into your room.”

“Did I?” It was less a challenge and more an exasperated sigh. Pushing past him, I went straight to the bathroom in the hopes that looking at my own reflection might knock some sense into me. The room didn’t shake Spencer, though, who followed me into the tinier space.

“Yes, you did,” he answered, licking his lips while I watched how his eyes roved over my figure in the mirror, “And there’s something else you want me to do.”

This dance had gone on long enough, and after trying to fix my hair, I turned to face him. I was nearly shouting when I shot back, “Something _I_ want you to do, or something _you_ want to do?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and when the scent of whiskey tinted breath hit my face, I realized just how close we’d been standing.

“I’m done with this, (y/n). I’ve gone along with your little game all night. You’ve been flaunting yourself in front of me—trying to fuck my best friend!” He almost made it sound like I wasn’t honestly interested in pursuing Ethan, which was bullshit. In fact, the only thing stopping me at the moment was the man currently scolding me in a bathroom. “Cut out the riddles, and just tell me what you want from me!”

I stared, slack jawed and aghast at his words for a moment longer before exploding. “Flaunting myself?! Spencer, I’m a grown woman. If I’m trying to fuck someone, it’s because I want to fuck them. It’s not about you!”

“He doesn’t give a shit about you!” He shouted back, “He’s just using you as a way to beat me! But I—!“

The room fell silent, his breathing still just as heavy despite stopping in the middle of the sentence. “You what?” I asked quietly, then repeated louder, “You **what** , Spencer?”

His lips rolled in, his eyes falling to the floor between us. He wasn’t just embarrassed, there was something else hiding just beneath the surface. I wanted to look away but felt this strong urge to keep my eyes on him. Like if I looked away for just a second, the pot would boil over. 

I waited, begging him to just answer the question; to admit that he had made a mistake. I desperately needed him to tell me that he wanted me, that he’d always wanted me, and that that was why watching me with Ethan was so painful.

“You finally going to admit it?” I asked with a shaky voice.

Spencer didn’t answer. Despite my wishing, I’d never thought he would. My hands clenched into fists before I threw them in the air, trying to release the tension I’d let brew for way too long.

“God, Spencer! Do you really even _want_ me or are you just jealous that I wanted him?!”

Those seemed to be the magic words that caused something in him to snap. Within seconds, he’d backed me against the counter of the bathroom, his arms pinning me against the cold ceramic that dug into my back.

“How could you even ask me that?” He ground his teeth together between the words, “How can you sit there and act like you don’t know what you’re doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m **not** doing anything.”

His face hung inches away from me, his nose ghosting over mine as we both tried to stay still in the close proximity. “Now who’s talking in riddles?” I continued in an attempt to rile him up again, scared that the slightest inactivity or ambivalence might drive him away again. 

“Just _shut up_.” He swallowed hard, his eyes closing in a poor attempt to collect himself. But if this moment were as long sought after for him as it were for me, there was no self-control in the world that would tear us apart. I hoped that were the case.

I lifted my hands in a daring move, pressing them against his chest just light enough for him to resist as I ran them up to his shoulders. When his eyes opened again, they were filled with even more desire than I’d seen before. Suddenly the strange mixture of rage and lust burned anew, stoked by the realization that he’d wanted me just as badly this whole time.

He’d wanted me, and he’d continued to let me go. And now he had the audacity to tell me to shut up? It’d taken me a month to get him in the same room with me again, and now that he was here, the last thing I would be doing was _shutting up_.

“You want me to shut up?” So I uttered the two words that were always guaranteed to cause a goddamn disaster. “ ** _Make me_**.”

And, _god_ , did he try. One of his hands left the ceramic counter, quickly running through my hair and forcing our mouths to collide with even more urgency than the first and last time we’d been in this situation. I similarly knotted my hands in his hair, trying to bring him impossibly closer to me before he had the self-preservation to run away again.

Spencer responded enthusiastically at first, pressing his whole body against mine and continuing to guide my head to allow him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The cocktail of liquor and need was the perfect bittersweet flavor.

But just when I thought I was safe to enjoy the moment, Spencer abruptly ended the kiss, pulling his face away from mine and dropping his head back. His eyes were closed, his mind clearly racing with the same concerns that had torn him away from me before. This time Emily wasn’t even _here._

“What?” I said through heavy breaths, biting down on my bottom lip with a light glare, “You gonna leave again?”

His eyes snapped open, his hands gripping tightly around the hair in his reach. Pulling my head back so that I was forced to look up to him, he muttered, “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“If I’d quit when I should have, we wouldn’t be here.” I mumbled back, smiling at the desire I could _feel_ in his grip. But I wasn’t done, wanting to see just how far I could push him before he would break. I wanted to feel just how _badly_ he wanted me. I wanted to know what he’d deprived us of. “In fact, I’d be in bed with Ethan, finding out _what notes those hands could make me sing_.”

Spencer didn’t speak, his other hand roughly pushing my dress up while maintaining direct eye contact with me. I could see the rage written across all of his features and feel it left in the wake of his hands. “I can call him.” I teased, “I bet he’d love to take me off your hands if I’m too much for you.” 

Before I knew it, he’d grabbed my hip hard enough to send a jolt of pain through my body before forcing my body to turn, my hip bones now pressed harshly against the unforgiving edge of the counter. Leaning down to my ear, he kissed my temple gently before whispering, “I know how to handle brats like you.”

“Did Ethan teach you that, too?” I immediately shot back, flashing him a devilish smirk in the mirror. His response came in the form of tugging the front of my dress down, exposing my chest just to knead my breast. I whined at the contact, urging him to continue in stark contrast to my words.

“What exactly are you trying to accomplish?” He asked, yanking my hair back so that my head rested against his chest, my neck craned to look at him. I didn’t shy away from his unrelenting gaze, looking back at him with just as much intensity.

“I’m just saying. I might as well go straight for the master instead of wasting my time with the student.” It was a little bit of a shock for me when he moved both of his hands, but it made sense once they both made their way to my hips, lifting the dress the rest of the way before pulling my underwear down with such force I was surprised the skimpy lace didn’t snap at the pressure. Hardly able to finish my thought, I looked at him in the mirror with a dreamy smile as I slurred, “Because I hate to break it to you, Spencer, but there aren’t any others like me.”

“ ** _Bend over, bitch_**.” With one hand on my hip, he used the other to force my upper body down over the counter, the breath knocking out of me when my stomach hit the counter. Still, I chuckled when his hand returned to my hair, the pressure applied to the back of my head ensuring that I’d stay down as long as he wanted me to.

I listened to the sounds of him disrobing with rapt fascination, peeking up to spot any movement I could in his reflection in front of me. It occurred to me at some point, bent over the counter, that I should be angry, but I couldn’t bother feeling anything other than my undying _need_ for this man to take me.

Once the noises ended, the lack of stimuli started to wreak havoc on my brain. I just laid there in anticipation, hoping to get some hint of what was to come next. Spencer knew it, too. His fingers brushed over my sex to find it soaked, and he elicited a gasp by slipping his finger through the folds.

“If you want to rile me up…” he trailed off, replacing his fingers with the head of his arousal, rubbing the head gently against me. The lewd sounds blended together as they left my mouth, my hips rocking against him while I whined. He was thriving on the sight of me desperately grinding against him. I could practically hear the smile in his voice when he thrust into me with one fluid motion before chuckling at the way I cried out at the sensation. “Then you can deal with the consequences.”

The initial pace he set was slower than one might expect, and it took me a moment before I realized he was probably going easy on me. It must have been painfully obvious that not only was I not used to someone of his size, it had been awhile since I’d been with anyone. The latter I could blame on my work… and the annoyingly persistent crush I had on the very same man currently fucking me against the bathroom counter. 

“Fuck!” The curse slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, mixing with the moans I was trying to hold back.

“Look at yourself.” Spencer ordered, pulling my head back by my hair so I could see myself in the mirror. My disheveled appearance was to be expected, but in my drunken stupor I’d forgotten just how scandalous we looked, my dress barely covering anything beyond my stomach.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already a pathetic mess.” He cruelly mumbled, pulling me further down the counter at the same time he drove into me. I sobbed on the moans I was trying to swallow, my nails dragging against the smooth surface of the ceramic. It was impossible to feel anything beyond him; his body commanding me from start to finish.

“Don’t be shy now. Let everyone know how good I make you feel,” he cooed, his hand matching the crushing force of his hips, “I want Ethan to be able to hear you being fucked like a **_goddamn whore_**.”

It was a command I couldn’t ignore if I wanted to, the sound of such filthy words leaving Spencer’s mouth driving me over the edge. I had to admit that even in my wildest dreams, I’d never pictured him as the type to be so comfortable dominating me. But it made sense, considering how often he was forced to bend to my will at work. I wanted him to learn now, though, that I would do _anything_ for him. All he had to do was ask.

Which he did. “Say my fucking name,” he demanded, his voice dark and raw.

“S-Spencer!” My voice, on the other hand, was barely a whisper, my vocal cords struggling to make any noise beyond shameless moans.

“Good girl. **Louder**.”

“Spencer!” I obeyed, shouting his name and taking delight in the way it caused the force of his movements to increase yet again. I could feel the bruises already beginning to bloom over my hips. 

“That’s right, _sweetheart._ ” Spencer mocked, “The next time you think about fucking anyone else, all you’ll be able to think about is how it felt to come on my cock.”

“ _Please_ , Spencer!” I vaguely pleaded for him to continue. I was so close to finishing and hopefully finding that final release we’d waited over a month to reach. Tugging back on my hair, he let me look at him again. The sight alone was intoxicating; his hair was still tousled from my hands running through it, a thin layer of sweat on his brow and his shirt and tie partially undone.

But I think it was his smile that did me in. He looked so proud at the way I came undone beneath him, barely able to hold myself up without his hold on my hair. My orgasm hit me like a fucking train, washing over me in a rapid, pulsing sensation from head to toe as my muscles hopelessly tensed around him.

“If you still want to spend the night with Ethan, you can explain to him what’s dripping down your legs.” His voice was more forced now, and I could tell that he was approaching his end. I hung on every word, watching the way my entire body shook each time he snapped his hips forward. “Or if you’d rather, I can tell him _myself_.”

My body was reaching its limit when he shifted his angle so that he could bottom out inside of me with each movement. It was the perfect blend of pleasure and pain; the physical embodiment of everything we should have said long before we got to this point. It was the catharsis we’d needed.

“I’ll tell him _all_ about the look on your face when you felt me flood your little cunt.” The words were my only warning before he buried himself fully in me, emptying his release at my deepest point. The warmth flood inside of me, his cock twitching softly until he was spent.

I wanted to see the look on his face, but I couldn’t prevent my eyes from rolling back. I was dizzy and lightheaded from the fact that I’d barely taken a breath since my own release. But he wasn’t tired enough to stop his taunts.

“That’s the one,” he teased at the debaucherous sight, “Look how _cute_.”

It was no sooner after he’d finished that he pulled out of me and released my hair, leaving me to scramble to hold myself up against the counter. One hand swiftly returned just to roughly grab my ass, pulling me back up onto my feet that were barely able to stay upright in the heels.

“You better clean yourself up if you don’t want Ethan to know.”

The sentence caused all the events of the night to rush back, my head reeling from the sudden realization that _I’d just fucked my coworker_. And not only did it happen in a fucking hotel bathroom, he’d dominated the hell out of me and used the man waiting for me downstairs as a tool to get me off.

It was official – Spencer Reid and I were both going to hell.

“Fuck,” I finally mumbled, still struggling to stand and failing to correct the top of my dress, “I can’t go back down there.”

“What’s wrong? Are you _tired_?” He gave a sarcastic pout in the mirror before grinning, bringing a washcloth in front of me and wetting it. I didn’t understand why until he got down on one knee and began to drag the warm fabric up my inner thigh, cleaning away the evidence of our little bathroom rendezvous.

“How the fuck are you not?”

“I’m used to taking my time with women like you.” It was such a casual statement, especially for it to have come from him. Then again, it was very clear this wasn’t his first time taking charge in the bedroom. “But this situation required more urgency.”

I had to admit– this time I was a little jealous.

“Why did you wait so long to fuck me?” I blurted out. I blamed the alcohol for my sudden intense curiosity.

Spencer got very quiet very quickly. His hand slowed down its work between my legs, his eyes fixed on the skin he was gently massaging under the guise of cleaning. He wasn’t sneaky; I knew he was using it as an excuse to continue touching me.

“I was worried.” It was a soft admission, but one I still didn’t understand.

“About _what_?”   
“You’re my friend.” That alone was enough of an explanation, but he’d continued anyway. I’m sure the words had been on his mind for a while now. “ _And_ my coworker. I see you and talk to you every day. I was scared that if I messed it up things would be…” He looked up at me, standing up slowly and averting his eyes until he was back to his full height. “That things would be different.”

“Well, things _are_ going to be different now.” I knew it wasn’t what he needed to hear, but it needed to be said nonetheless.

Spencer nodded, dropping the towel in the sink and using his hands to begin fixing my disheveled hair. “Yeah, I know.”

He was still trying to find excuses to touch me. I let him, my face leaning into his touch. “And… are you scared?” I was so nervous to hear his answer I almost didn’t ask. Because the truth was, I was scared. Not just because it had been one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life, but because he was my best friend, and despite how much he was touching me now, I still wasn’t sure he felt the same.

“I’m fucking terrified.”

After the words were said, we both started to laugh. It was a lovely sound; our happiness literally bouncing off the walls in the beautiful acoustics of ceramic that had just recently shared something far more promiscuous.

Once we’d settled down, I managed to ask the question burning in my mind since the moment he’d kissed me. “So why did you do it?”

“The thought of you being with Ethan… with _anyone_ else… it hurt worse than the fear.” This time his hands had no excuse to be on me, but he settled his fingers against my chin, anyway, tilting me up to him. It wasn’t to order me to look at him; it was just a chance for him to let me see the man behind the stoic façade he’d tried to maintain.

“It’s not fair to get mad at me for pursuing other people if you don’t want to give me what I want.” For such bold words, my voice was tiny. I fidgeted with my hands, trying not to reach out to him the same way he did to me. I didn’t want to let myself get hurt, but I also wanted to make sure the boundaries set tonight didn’t leave us confused and wanting for the foreseeable future.

“But I do want to.”

It seemed too good to be true. “I want more than random drunken hook ups in hotel rooms,” I stumbled over my words, looking away as I felt my voice cracking, “I-I want to be with you, Spencer.”

“I want that, too.” His entire palm rested against my cheek, leading my face back so we could look into each other’s eyes and see that what we were saying wasn’t a drunken mistake. It was the truth; we wanted to be together.

“Then… okay.” I said cautiously, trying to gauge his reaction, “Okay, let’s do it.” A disbelieving smile started to spread across his face that made me feel more confident. “Let’s… be together.”

“Really?” He laughed, also taking his time not to rush to the conclusion. We wanted to give each other the space to back away, even though it was clear neither of us would.

“Yeah, really.”

And then there was no reason to hesitate. Grabbing my face with both hands, he brought me into another kiss. This time we weren’t trying to make up for years of tension. All we wanted to do was share how we felt in that one moment. We were happy.

I held onto the collar of his shirt when he tried to pull away, hoping to solidify the understanding that we’d never turn our backs to the other again. But eventually it had to end. Even worse, there was a bit of unfinished business that I _absolutely_ did not want to deal with.

“Hey, Spencer…” I said quietly against his lips, “as my boyfriend can you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Can you go tell Ethan I’m not coming back down?” As soon as the words left my lips, he was laughing. He finally dropped his hands away from me, grimacing a bit before relenting.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

—

Although Spencer had seemed hesitant to tell Ethan about his new girlfriend, his true feelings were entirely the opposite. It just hadn’t seemed like a great idea to be excited about it in front of her considering how the night had begun. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like he’d only gone through with it to end the competition between friends.

Because that wasn’t why he had done it. It didn’t matter that it was Ethan – the prospect of her being with anyone else drove him insane. It was part of the reason he’d left her that night. Once he had her, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let her go. As it turned out, his fears had been justified.

For some reason it wasn’t until he rounded the corner to the restaurant that he considered just how ridiculous he looked. He had shed his tie back at the room, his shirt still partially undone and he was now lacking a suit jacket. If that wasn’t enough, his hair had returned to its wild state; a clear sign that someone had been messing with it.

Ethan definitely noticed immediately, letting out a brief dog whistle across the bar much to Spencer’s chagrin. “My man!” Ethan laughed, turning and leaning against the bar with a toothy grin, “Looking good. Where’s (y/n)?”

Spencer cleared his throat before taking a seat, running his hand through his hair before stating proudly, “She’s not coming back down. She’s… tired.”

“Well, good game, Reid.” There was a knowing smile shared between the two of them followed by a comfortable silence. Ethan’s eyes were scrutinizing his friend, who seemed rather intent on avoiding eye contact. It didn’t take a profiler to see that this went deeper than a competition.

“You don’t sound surprised.” Spencer pointed out. The other man just shrugged, signaling to the bartender that they’d like two more drinks before returning his attention to the conversation at hand.

“I never really had a chance with her. She was obviously just trying to get your attention.” He explained the thought away with a wave, finishing his drink to make way for the next. With an accusing finger pointed to Spencer, he laughed, “For a minute there I thought I would actually have to sleep with her to get you to make your move.”

Spencer waited for a second, a little afraid of what Ethan’s response would be to his next question.

“Would you have?”

“Who knows?” He playfully replied with raised eyebrows. “I do love beating you. And it doesn’t happen often enough anymore now that you’re a hot shot FBI agent.”

There was a little truth to his words, and Spencer had to appreciate the fact that his friend had let him make multiple regrettable mistakes through the night. Still, the two men didn’t need to rehash them.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” That was all Spencer needed to say to make his point.

“There’s always next time. So take care of her, or else…” Ethan warned, letting that be the last hint of jealousy to be felt that night.

“I will. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. You gonna run back on up?”

Spencer answered the question by taking the whiskey that was set in front of him, shaking his head at his own stupidity for what he was about to say. “Not yet.” As much as he wanted to curl up with (y/n), he had promised he wouldn’t leave his friend behind just because a girl happened to go to the dance with him. “Figured I should probably actually hang out with you before you leave.”

After they both took a drink, Spencer cheekily admitted, “Besides, I wasn’t joking, she’s seriously dead asleep.” The laugh the two shared was confirmation that at the end of the day, they had been friends before her, and they’d still be friends after one of them got her.

“Remember when we were younger, and you always told me I could have any girl I wanted?” Ethan asked as he raised his glass to his lips. The question was rhetorical, considering Spencer’s memory, but he answered anyway. “Yeah, I do.”

“Not any girl anymore, is it?”

“No,” Spencer said with a smile, “I guess not.”


End file.
